


Eternal Bride

by MFU



Series: Miria X 049 [2]
Category: SCP - Containment Breach, SCP Foundation
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Mirror Sex, Muteness, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Behavior, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFU/pseuds/MFU
Relationships: SCP-049 (SCP Foundation)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Miria X 049 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126520
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Crying Heart

Miria sighed; the sound of her alarm clock blaring in her left ear. Groaning loudly, she rolled to her side, nearly falling off the bed, and slammed her hands on the small clock several times until it silenced itself. Rolling back into the duvet, smiling at the warmth around herself- until her phone alarm began blaring.

"Alright, alright, I get it!"

She sighed, sitting up with a stretch. The blinds to her room open just enough to let the sun sliver over her body a little. Smiling as she looked around, skipping up to the long mirror by her bed and scoffing at her bed hair. "Damn, I really gotta tie my hair before bed," she laughed.

Walking to the kitchen, Miria opened the fridge whilst wiggling her hips to the radio playing in the background. Milk? Nope, too healthy. Cereal? Also too healthy.

She spied some fizzy drink in the back, sitting beside a half eaten sandwich. "Perfect!"

Pulling them out with a big grin, and devouring both within seconds. The alarm behind her blaring again. "Oh shit, I am gonna be late!" Rushing into gym clothes, rushing to get ready.

She hurried out from her apartment, making sure to lock and check it at least seven times. Hood going instantly up, her wide eyes darting around the silent halls of her apartment- just waiting.

'Miria, my dear... where do you think you are going?'

His voice echoing in her ears, the monster that had kidnapped and enslaved her so long ago. But no more. She had gotten free, never looking back. Finding herself in the safety of the city, where comfort could be found in overcrowded densities of people, and the homeless plaguing the streets. There was always eyes upon her, and never a chance for... someone... to come take her away, again.

Head down, she unlocked her bicycle from the apartment storage downstairs, and set off. The rain falling on her forehead in heavy drops, like tears. Driving alongside the lazy folk using their cars, afraid of a little rain. Her gaze moving to a stationary taxi parked up beside where she must ride past. The driver inside, pale with black curls of locked hair. Their eyes meeting for a moment; fear becoming more then Miria could stand as she quickly looked away.

'Why does my heart still hurt when I...-'

Never mind. These feelings of fear would remain. But that did not mean she was a prisoner anymore. No, Miria was far from it... coming to the local gym and parking her bike up outside.

She stepped into the warm establishment, smiling as she listened to the sounds of gloved hands punching materials. Grunts and yells of encouragement echoing down the hall to the front desk, where she was currently signing in with the use of a pen barely working, and a crappy sign-in sheet being soaked by her wet hoodie sleeve.

She stepped to the big training hall: a large venue with wooden flooring and a big boxing ring. Only the trainer and a young girl inside, his eyes upon her face so bright and gentle. "Yeah, come on! Give it some more!" He smiled even brighter when he noticed Miria.

"Okay, Alice... time to go. I will see you this time next week, okay?" He crouched to the girls height, smiling. "Oh, and tell your Mama that those cookies were divine!" He laughed, doing a chef-finger kiss gesture that had the little girl giggling as she ran out of the room.

"Max..." Miria smiled, taking in the sight of him as he approached. Blonde locks of hair so bright, warm brown eyes set directly on hers, and toned body glistening from the previous work-out he must have done. "Miria, how's life?"

He leant up against the door frame, going to drink his drink; failing when he did not even bother to check that the bottle was upside down. Miria watched the water squirt on the floor, laughing at him as he blushed beet red and corrected himself.

"Huh, something got you distracted?" She teased, removing her jacket till she was left in just her sports bra and shorts. "No!" He stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "C'mon, I was just teasing."

Max, Miria's hired instructor, gently led her to the centre of the training hall. Distracted by him leaning down to pick up some gloves for her, Miria jumped a little when Alice, the student always in the time-slot before herself, came hurrying to and tugging at Miria's leg.

Miria looked down, lips parting. The little girl, with her big green eyes, stared up at Miria- who was like a deer in the headlights. Clutching her chest, feelings she cannot fight.

'I wanted to make Mama some cookies; she looks sad.' Miria gripped her chest tighter. 'Papa?' Miria's eyes widened, unable to speak at the memory. 'Yes Isabeau?' Now her hand met her lips, tempting herself to not throw up. 'Can we get a new Mama... I think this one is broken.'

On the verge of collapse, Miria opened her eyes to find Max holding her crumbled body; his kind but firm voice sending Alice away. "Miria?" His voice so soft. "Max..."

"Are you okay?" Miria scoffed, laughing fakely as she stood with a grin. "Of course." But Max just stared, not convinced. "It was another episode. You are thinking about him again."

Max was one of very few to know about 049. Well, not the important details- like him being a psychotic plague doctor, or the foundation, but more... the abuse she had suffered.

A little wobbly, Miria's sharp tone convinced Max she was alright. "I am okay, really! Can we just... train, please?"

He held his hands up, pointing to a punching bag beside himself. "Okay, remember. Side, side, forward punch." Miria nodded, punching the bag he was holding from behind. Gosh, the tension release always felt magical. But, on this particular day, imagining the bag was... well, 049, just felt so right.

His hand upon her breast, his lips on her skin, her fingers stretching her open below- Miria choked a little as she punched hard. "That's it, great job!"

Training session over, Miria stepped out for a shower in the changing rooms and then hobbled back to where she usually wished Max goodbye. But this time, he was waiting for her- showered also, and fully dressed. Smiling at her reflection from a hanging mirror to he side, she tied her hair into her usual bun, ignoring the flashbacks of the foundation.

"Oh? You are dressed." Miria chuckled, gaze set on the paper she signed herself out with. "Yeah, figured I would get dressed so I could ask if you would let me take you out." Miria froze, pen slowly set down on the desk. "Well," he stuttered," I am dressed enough to run away if you say no-"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

Miria turned with flushed cheeks. "I would... really love to go out with you, Max." Oh gosh, what luck! Her attractive and kind trainer wanted to take her out? Someone she was always interested in, and someone who could protect her!

"Great! I... well, let's go." He smiled nervously, holding the door for Miria as they stepped outside and rushed to his vehicle. "Oh damn, my bike..."

"I already moved it inside." Miria smiled; he was such a gentleman. "Yep, your bike's safe in the gym."

"Where are you taking me, Max?" She relaxed back. "Oh, perhaps just that new restaurant up down the way." Miria bloomed red. "Oh my gosh, the... that's too expensive!" "Not at all. I want to take you somewhere you deserve to be."

Somewhere... she deserved to be.

Miria pondered on those words. No, no need to be so worried. "Miria..."

She shut her eyes, snuggling into the warmth the cars heating system was providing her with. "Miria..."

Everything just felt so right. Like nothing could go wrong-

"Miria!"

~~~

Miria let her eyes shoot open, instantly recognising the plainly painted walls in front of herself. Instantly recognising the unloving floral bed sheets draped around her body. The strong arm wrapped around her waist, and the soft breathing down her right ear. Simply pausing in time for a moment, doing her best to sit up and see there is no radio... no fridge... no blinds letting the sun in.

Instead, there is a bed. A big bed, peeking to her right to confirm that unmasked Florice was lazily snuggling into her warmth and sleeping like a log. There was no city outside the window, just fields and emptiness. Breathing a little harder from panic she knows she should not have; it has been far too long to feel panic now.

Miria lifted her leg, finding the long shackle still keeping her to the bed, even if Florice now allowed her arms to be free in sleep. 'Trust earnt, is trust given,' he said.

And so, Miria grabbed the sheets a little and stared out into the coldness of the room. Wondering why God let her dream such nice things, only for her real nightmare to begin at the crack of dawn.

Coughing a little, she barely moved an inch when a big hand patted her stomach in a sleepy attempt to draw her back into his chest for cuddles. "Mi...ria..." Florice groaned out, eyes still shut, morning voice deep and croaky. With a sigh, Miria kept in her position. She was wide awake now; no need to lay back down.

Getting up carefully, cautious not to wake 049, Miria hobbled to the bathroom. Her chain allowed her this room and that, only. Doing her business with a sad frown, and then timidly returning to the room- only to see 049 rubbing his eyes, propped up by one hand on the mattress. Stubble getting a bit wilder then he would like; but with so much time with his wife on his hands, shaving or the like is the last thing on his mind. Abs gleaming; the sun through the window exposing the small scars littering his shoulders and arms.

He smiled gently when he saw his wife standing awkwardly by the bed, waiting for command. "Miria, darling, come back to bed- please?" Miria wanted to protest, and say that she had only just woken up. But how could she?

"It is cold, come get in bed. We have nothing to wake so early for."

She nodded, opening the covers and shuffling into them. Her body rigid as he instantly shuffled closer; big fingers toying her collarbone for a moment in admiration. "How are you feeling, angel?"

"O-Okay..." she stuttered, "y-yourself?"

"Better now that you are back in bed with me." He cooed, wrapping his hand beneath her back; grabbing her by the thigh and pulling her tighter into himself. Breathing harsh, Miria knew that the hand on her shoulder was keeping her in place, that his eyes were studying her face, that his lips were inches from her own.

"Can I have my morning kiss, dear?"

Miria shut her eyes tight, trembling as she quickly leant forth and pecked his lips. But 049 merely chuckled at this, admiring her with a grin before diving back to her lips and devouring her hungrily.

Propping himself up by his elbow, focusing as his wife was placed beneath himself. His hands rubbing her thigh needily, his lips on hers, his free hand supporting the back of her head.

Miria tried pushing him off, managing to free her lips every few seconds between kisses. "Please, Florice, I... I just woke up!" "So did I~" He teased.

"Ah!"

Miria yelped, time pausing as he grasped both her hands and kept them above her head. Staring with a dominant smirk. "Please, I... I am hungry, I just... breakfast... please... not now." Her words a string of fearful noises. Unheard as his lips met and nibbled her neck; her face moving away with a shocked whimper.

"I do this to you every morning," he paused, "and it still feels amazing every time." Miria was about to let out a sob, before the sound of her stomach grumbling broke the mood.

Florice laughed cheekily, whilst Miria bloomed red in shame. "Well, someone really was hungry."

He scuttled off the bed, big frame casting a shadow over Miria as he stretched and looked out the open window, before grabbing his usual attire and unclipping his wife's binding. Led downstairs, Miria positioned herself in the same seat as usual- toying a spec of dust on the table surface as 049 set himself out to cook something for her.

"Florice?" Her tiny voice called. "Hmmm?" He turned to face her. "I know... the radio is a l-luxury, but could we turn it on, please?" Yes, 049 claimed he somehow 'bought' a radio. More like killed and cured an innocent camper.

"Oh, but that is for when you have behaved well." Her gaze lowered, tears building as she fumbled her hands. "I...-" "If you promise to behave for me all day, and do anything I ask, then you can have the radio on for breakfast."

Miria stared back into those calculative eyes, nodding. And thus, he turned the radio on whilst cooking. Miria instantly set off to daydream, smiling as she tried desperately to continue some kind of dream date idea with 'Max,' and maybe some perfect bed-room scene and aftercare too. Anything that was just... the opposite of 049.

The blonde hair to the black, the freedom given compared to this captivity, the clumsy nature compared to 049's meticulous cold one. Miria could have sobbed then and there, just longing and wishing on an imaginary being from a dream. "You look happy," 049 smiled. "O-Oh! I... I just like this song."

049 chuckled, turning up the radio as Miria continued thinking about her dream. About how good it felt to... punch. Her tiny fists clenching, staring at her husband as she imagined just... hurting him. Her heart aching, an uncertain look on her face as she pictured such thing. Ah, a gun to shoot him. Oh, choking him until he stops breathing. So many options, and they all filled her with an unimaginable evil joy.

Maybe, just maybe-

049 produced her meal before her, allowing her to finally eat alone.

Maybe, escape was still not impossible.


	2. The Game

"Miria, you are being awfully cheerful today." 049 commented, watching his wife sit at the table in a daze. "Oh, I... sorry..." she lowered her head quickly. "No, no, do not apologise. It is positively adorable!" He was cooing now, lifting her gaze from behind her; guiding her quietly so he could kiss her exposed neck. Once his lips were directly beside her ear, he whispered. "Is there something you are not telling me?"

"No! I promise..."

He hummed, moving round to face Miria with a studying gaze. "What could I hide from you?" Miria asked, trembling violently now. "That is true, I suppose..." 049 mumbled to himself before continuing onto his cooking again. There had to be a way out, or something- anything.

Miria studied a bobby pin sitting on the table, alone and forgotten. Sweat running down her forehead as she took occasional glances to 049; arm stretching out to grab it. Her elbow just hitting the edge of the wooden furniture, before shoving the accessory into her scalp painfully.

049 turned at the noise, eyes squinting. "I heard a sound." "Possibly just a rat...?" Miria stuttered, smiling as she fumbled her hands. 049 took a long moment to analyse his wife, a big knife in hand from chopping meat. Miria was shuddering violently.

"Did you move?" He asked with suspicion. "Not.... intentionally, no." He scowled again in her direction. "Maybe... you are right..." but his observant gaze left Miria crumbling. "Please, why do you never believe me?" He kept silent, studying her again before his shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Maybe you ARE right. It has been a long day," he turned back to the stove, "and I am rather ready to sleep, in truth."

'So am I, you bastard...' Miria smirked, thinking about this tiny glimmer of hope. Maybe she could unlock her cuff with the pin. "Miria," 049's voice cut off her thoughts, "I want you to know... if you try anything, you will not be prepared for what I have in store for you."

Her whole body froze. The dream, knowing Isabeau knew of her hostage situation, it provided her with the open arms of bravery she needed. There was nothing else he could do to hurt her, not now. Surely, nothing worse could happen?

Clenching her fist, thinking positively, she spoke back for the first time in... months, years?

"I understand that you are scared I will run away, since y'know, you would be locked up again- just as you deserve to be- but surely, you must know this is wrong... if you are so scared I will run."

Bad choice. The sound of the knife clattering down on the surface made way for 049 stomping up to his wife; taking her by surprise as he lifted her with one hand on her clothes. "I will not let you go," he shook her like a rag-doll, "I will never let you be free. You hear me?"

Wide tear soaked eyes stared back at 049; her legs high above the ground, now curled back and hands ringing together nervously. He near enough threw Miria back in her seat, sighing loudly as he walked back to the stove once more. "Why... why do you treat me like this? You won't even let me outside..."

"I mean no harm."

"Yeah, YOU SAY THAT TO YOUR PATIENTS, AND LOOK WHAT HAPPENS TO THEM!"

He spun back round, raging. "They are not killed, they are cured. And that is not even the extent of my career." He stomped closer. "I do not know why you produce calamity with every new day. You know I shall not harm you, and yet you continue to irk me on purpose. Does thou still not love me?!"

"NO, I NEVER WILL!"

Being angry, screaming, felt so good. Falling off the seat onto her knees, Miria sobbed loudly as she tugged her hair. "I will not let you have me, no matter what it takes..."

He grabbed her by her collar, pulling her to her feet. Oh no... "Wait!" He dragged her beside himself, shutting off the stove and then marching her to the living room. "Florice, no! Please!"

"You must be punished. This is the most outrageous behaviour I have ever seen from you, Miria. Frankly, I am rather shocked."

Shaking her head side to side, tears streaming, Miria grasped his hand holding her shoulder tight and begged. "Please, oh please, I did not mean it!" He shook his head in return, perhaps mocking her, "you certainly must be punished."

"No!" Miria tried putting up a fight, but it was futile. Their shadows created by the open fire warming their nude bodies. 049 with his hands on her hips; his maiden submissive, crying and naked- lying on her back as he slurped and sucked at her exposed womanhood.

"You should be grateful, Miria," he puffed and panted, grinning. "Why?" She moaned, grasping tiny strands of carpet beneath herself. "I had much worse planned, however- perhaps you are just longing for this. After all, it has been a few days since we done this, non?"

Miria choked out a small sob, covering her face in shame as she felt the warm carpet burn her back a little; dragged closer whilst her husband hungry trailed his tongue up and down her juices. Frowning, lust leaving her, Miria debated using her thighs to try and choke him- but the damage he could inflict upon her if he managed to overthrow her, which he would, would be catastrophic.

"Are you... almost done...?" Miria gasped out, groaning in shock when he slipped a thick finger inside of her. The feeling of fullness, his tongue flicking her clit, her walls twitching and tightening around his digit in excitement. 'I am fine,' she convinced herself, 'stay calm.'

'Uh-oh,' 049 crawled closer, keeping his finger pumping her opening whilst he slammed her right thigh down with his left; smirking above Miria before slowly lowering himself again to kiss her lips. Miria let out a whine of disgust, not wanting to kiss someone who had just fed off of her own-

His finger flexed inside of her, making her shut her eyes and cry out. Passion becoming too much; his lips locking onto hers, tongue swirling and battling her own, whilst his finger hit her g-spot repeatedly. Legs twitching, the need to release becoming intense.

"Mpppph-"

049 pulled away, laughing at the line of saliva connecting both their tongues. "My," he wiped it away on the back of his sleeve, "surely you did not just orgasm without my permission, my dear?" Miria felt her heart beating rapidly.

"No, wait, I am sorry! Please... 049... anything-" "It is Florice." Miria hushed herself, regretting even speaking as she suffered beneath his cold stare. "What on earth am I going to do with you, dear? You're such a fiery little thing. Truly, and I am so tired on this eve."

"Does that mean... you will let me sleep, tonight?" He eyed her, chuckling. "It means I may sleep, but... one must still be punished, correct?" Miria kept silent. "Correct?" He asked again, more stern.

"You do not love me."

049 did not expect those words to be said at that moment, watching Miria look away; tears rushing down her face as she remained laying on the floor. "Pardon?"

"You do not love, adore, need, want- whatever- me... I am just... your... sex slave." Miria broke into a sob, covering her eyes with her small hands. "Tais-toi," 049 snatched her hands, forcing her to sit up. "How could you ever even think such a thing? You bared me a child, I came for you when you... tried to leave me. Is nothing I do ever going to be enough?"

Miria kept silent. "I do everything for you, Miria. I expect nothing of you, but your heart. And-"

"And nothing! You do nothing for me! You keep me alive, you keep me breathing, all so you can use and abuse me!" He was startled by her words, watching her weep amongst the flickering flames behind her. "This... is not love. This is captivity." She pointed to her swollen ankle; the cuff mark imprinted there, before crying again.

"Oh my sweet little-" he went to touch her hair, and Miria instantly shot to life. "No... just... hold my hand, instead." Her heart was beating, hoping and preying the pin was still there in her locks.

"Miria," she looked into his eyes, "I am terribly sorry you feel that way, and if I knew how to make you see otherwise, I would. I-"

Suddenly, the wheels in 049's head began turning. A gift. A gift for his wife. For his eternal bride. Eternal. Miria... was aging, she would and could die. 049 would remain.

Miria twitched nervously, watching and waiting for 049 to stop staring at her so coldly. "...Florice?"

There was a dark scowl on his face, an ugly look of lust of obsession in his hues. "Miria," he spoke lowly, "you truly do wish to leave, don't you?" Her world froze. "Can... I?" He kept silent. "You are letting me go? Oh, 049, I knew-"

"My name, dear, MY NAME."

Miria shuddered in terror. "And no," he pulled her closer to himself, "I am not letting you go. Not now, not ever. So you can stop with that nonsense again."

"Ah!" He hoisted her up without warning. "049, wait!"

"Tu me fatigues," he kicked the bedroom door open in a crude manner. Completely devoid of his usual charm as he watched Miria flee to the other side of the room. Locking the door, storming over to her gracefully.

Trapped between his hard chest and the wall, he lifted her wrists above her head and asked: "how long have you been here, my wife?"

"I... I...-"

"Just over eighteen years."

Miria felt her heart tumble. "Our little girl is all grown up," her lips fell into an ever more intense frown, "and yet, here, you still act impish and... disrespectful." He threw her on the bed, making her body bounce a little before he climbed over her. "049-" "Nearly twenty years, and you still have to be prompted to use your husbands name, you still have to be punished. I AM GROWING TIRED OF IT, MIRIA!"

She winced beneath him, falling silent. "So what?" She spoke bravely. "You're gonna kill me? Well good! Do it before I do! I would rather die then spend another moment with you."

"Oh, is that so?" 049 spoke, raising a brow and reaching for the nearby rope. Miria began trying to worm her way out beneath him. "Yeah, it is! I can easily overpower you with enough training-" the air was knocked from her lungs; her body spun so her face was smothered by the mattress with 049 on top of her. She tried to speak, tried to protest, but 049 was so calm. He was even humming a little, sighing through his nose lovingly as he tied his wife's squirming limbs behind her, and pushed her head back into the mattress below.

Spinning her back round, he smiled at Miria's furious face. So helpless, still nude, completely vulnerable. "Kneel for me, Miria." She hesitated, pouting and looking away. "Miria, I will not ask you twice."

Grunting, it took effort for her to stabilise her bound body so she was kneeling on the bed. "There, happy now?" She spat. "Good, I want you to see me as I speak to you."

"Ah~!"

One hand grabbed Miria's waist, the other dove between her legs. "Now, listen to me carefully." She bit her lip, feeling his index finger sliding up and down her clit. "Please, stop touching-" "I am well aware you are aging, and I am not." Miria winced, but was now vaguely interested by this conversation. "I am well aware you STILL wish to leave my side, and... you are aware that I shall not let this happen."

He paused his hands for a moment, denying an orgasm, before he continued rubbing her below. Her frail body shaking as his fingers dug into her hips, keeping her in position. "So, I have decided to compromise."  
He started moving his fingers faster. "I will never let you leave me, dear. And this includes death. Therefore, I am going to perfect a way... to make you eternal, as I am."

Miria cried out in protest. "No, no, you cannot- no, that is- you cannot!" But her oncoming orgasm was too much. "Ah, but it sounds like you want this?" "No..." she whined, body moving a little on its own against his finger.

"Tell me you want this." Miria did not know if he meant his sick proposition, which fulfils the fact she must escape soon, or being allowed release. Mind going crazy, she tried counting numbers in her mind, tried breathing harder, but 049 leant closer with a smirk and spoke sensually to her. "I will be beside you, for the rest of time. Never to be apart." How could God be so cruel? She asked herself. "And you will never be able to leave me, no matter what you might think."

"Ah~ please, I need to-"

"You need to stay with me. Say it."

"Yes, yes! I need it!"

Shuddering, she panted hard and whipped her head back as she finally got the release she deserved. "Splendid..." 049 smirked, "I am so glad you agree."

"Wh-what?" Miria asked, dozy and exhausted. "Hush now," 049 gave her a fright, appearing behind her so swiftly; pulling her into the bed, still tied, and covering her body with the duvet.

"Are you warm, mon Petit Cœur?" Miria chose not to answer, shutting her eyes and letting exhaustion take over.

049 watched her doze off, smiling to himself at the sight. "Rest well, my dear; I shall be back with supper within the hour." He lost his smile as he reached the door, plotting already what he must do to make Miria his, for all eternity. Safely from the world and foundation, no matter what would happen then, she would always be there- always be available, a little flower, ready for 049 to pluck from wherever she might try to sprout. And Miria opened her eyes, heart racing, once 049 left her alone.

Both trying to find an inner strength within. One to escape, the other to contain his lover- both trying to stay calm, working against the invisible threat of losing to the other. Like a sick and dangerous game, the timer had been set. And it was now a case of who would win this game.


	3. The First Escape

"Miria?"

There was a knock on the door, and Miria had to quickly stop her squirming. 049 stepped into the room slowly; a tray of food in hand. "Are you ready for your supper?" Miria looked away, pouting and trying her best not to cry at this moment. "Miria?" She nodded weakly.

049 walked over slowly, humming as he dropped the utensil to the floor by mistake. "Ah..." he remarked coldly, stretching down to reach it. Miria could only watch with a grumpy expression, cheeks heating up a tad, as her kidnappers body displayed pure muscles and dignity. His every move so melodic and graceful, and his body was pretty buff and lean too. He looked back up, catching her gaze as she whipped her head to the other side of the room, chuckling as he advanced upon his bound wife.

His smug grin penetrating her will as he untangled the rope from her wrists and placed the tray on her lap. "I saw you looking," he chuckled, "I knew you loved me deep down." Miria nearly threw the tray on the floor. "What?! No, I was looking past you, not at you!" She crossed her arms, looking away angrily. "Oh, come now," he chuckled, "do we really need to go back to me feeding you, hmm?"

Miria huffed, picking up the spoon to shovel soup into her mouth. "Is the taste fitting?" He asked, like he did every single day. "It.. is fine."

"'Fine?' Shall I make you something else?" "No." Miria shook her head, trembling secretly. Sure, he had kidnapped and abused her... he had made her life awful, but it was a constant fight to not fall into the danger of Stockholm syndrome. He was courteous, constantly wanting to do his best for her, and even from the beginning- at the foundation- he was a lover that would not back down, and even then, she had admired his features.

Since their daughter had left, initially the home was empty and sad. It was a blur of constant sexual torture; 049's excitement constantly breaking his normal behaviour, his body always above hers. 'Merde, apologies Miria... I must have you.' He had drugged his wife, leaving her to writhe uselessly beneath himself, complimenting her body repeatedly. 'Ah, your wonderful breasts fit so perfectly into these palms of mine,' he had told her whist fondling her chest.

He seemed so genuine, and Miria spooned some more food into her mouth with a dreamy look on her face. Fully lost in thought, her mind said 'you do not own me,' but when 049 began tidying the room and humming the same French tunes, it reminded her of the first time- the first time she cried, the first time she felt alive in his arms. That one moment, a chance to be loved forever, and she wondered if her battle cry had only made things worse. No good thing ever dies, and it had nearly been twenty years with 049. She held her temples as she ate, trying to forget the fact that this whole thing happened because she initially slept with her own test subject. But what if... she had just behaved from the beginning? No-

Blaming herself, 049 turned when he heard sniffling and gentle sobs- seeing Miria with a face full of tears. Instantly, he hurried over, all worried. "Miria?" "Please, do not touch me!" 049 let out a confused noise, uncertain of the reason for her tears. He attempted to touch her cheeks, in order to wipe the salty tears from her features. What he did not expect, was Miria to shoot up from the bed and push past him.

It was so stupid. She could have been calculative, but this had to be a chance, right? Running down the stairs, ignoring his calls. "Miria, come back, my dear!" She winced at his voice, colliding with the floor at the bottom from months, no, years of never running. "Miria, my darling, please! You will get hurt!"

Why, why God, did her heart hurt so much? Her mind screaming to go back to the warmth of her bed upstairs, her mind telling her that she will not be safe without 049 there to guide her. No, she shook her head, she must keep going.

Greeted by open fields, and nothing but hills in the distance, Miria panicked as she heard 049 calling for her again. Rain pouring down upon her gently, sobbing so that the rain could disguise her pain. She just kept rushing forth, remembering what happened the last time she reached the forest she was in now. Hiding behind a tree as she regained her breath, sobbing frantically and falling to her knees to hush herself as she remembered that painful torture session.

Shaking her head, she followed the sound of leaf's crunching to find, thankfully, just a lone deer exploring. 049 could not be heard, but that did not stop Miria from already running. And it felt like so long of running, her legs shaking and body trembling from the cold. Tumbling down a steep hill, now coated in mud and dead branches stabbing her soft skin.

Some kind of dirt road she had landed on provided hope. Not much, but perhaps a farmer or the likes lived close enough to help her. Just anyone!

Stumbling on, moaning out to stop herself fainting, Miria spied what looked like a telephone box. Hurrying to it, looking around before throwing herself inside. In a position like this, 049 could easily have her trapped. Gosh, she could envision him waiting for her to step out; tapping his foot impatiently with a disappointed look-

She had to act fast.

The first number of the police dial was missing, the key pad destroyed, so no calling the authorities. Instead, Miria remembered the number for her daughter. She preyed after all these long hard months, Isabeau would not have changed her phone. And, well, sometimes you have to remember very little else when you are held captive. So the number was burned into her memory.

Miria dialled up, looking around whilst tugging her hair.

"Hello?"

"Isabeau!"

There was a long pause. "...Mother?" Miria let out a noise of exhaustion and excitement. "How... where are you?" The confusion and caution in her voice was obvious. "Listen to me," Miria panted, "please... help me.... please..."

Isabeau went silent, pausing before speech again. "Mother, you are sick... go back to bed." "No! No! You saw... I know you saw..." Miria held the phone tight, slowly collapsing to her knees. "Isabeau, please, don't leave me here..."

The awkward tension was there, even in this situation. Miria had not spoken to her daughter since she found out the truth, and that must have been at least six months ago now. In their entire lifetime together, perhaps no more then one-hundred words were spoken to one another. And here, from nowhere, Miria had come begging frantically to be saved.

"Who you talking to?" A voice chimed in the background. "Nobody," Isabeau stuttered, "Mom... go to bed. I... need to go."

"No!" Miria cried, clutching the phone tight enough to break it. "Please, please!" The desperation in her voice had the daughter of the family ready to cry. "I cannot... I g-got out. He will hurt me, please... please come get me! PLEASE!"

"Mom!" Miria flinched. "You know I cannot do this. You... need to go back to papa." Miria sobbed louder. "Isabeau... he wants to experiment on me, he s-said... please... I r-really... need h-help." Isabeau winced when she heard her Mother breathing so hard, clearly vomiting shortly after.

"Mom, listen... you are stressed. The stress is causing you to vomit. Tell me clearly, what do you need?" Miria stared ahead of herself.

"I need help-"

Isabeau stiffened when she heard a loud banging, and then her Mother crying frantically. "Mom?!" She hissed, looking around at her fellow students all perking up at the sound of her sharp voice. "Mom," she whispered, "Mom, are you okay?"

"Florice, please!"

Isabeau breathed ragged, shutting her eyes and facing the wall. Her small hand held the phone firmly, but with shaking movements. She was listening to the sound of her Mother being dragged away violently; screams and pleas going unheard, and Isabeau stayed on the phone and listened to them disappear.

Isabeau took a moment to collect herself, before placing the phone down gently. She turned to her classmates, to her boyfriend, hurrying to pick up her belongings. "Miss Izzy, where are you going?" The teacher spat sharply. "Home." The young girl snapped back, glaring. "And, you are going to walk out minutes before your final exam?"

Isabeau took a moment to meet her professors eyes. "Yeah, I am."

The teacher walked to the board where a list of names were neatly written, sighing as she scribbled out the name 'Izzy.' Isabeau watched with watering eyes; her dreams being crushed before herself. But it was time to step up. Her Mother needed her. And she needed her Mother.

"Babe, what the hell are you doing?"

Isabeau turned to her boyfriend, who remained seated. "Look, Tom, I need to go. Someone needs my help. Now you can come with me, and help me, or you can stay." Isabeau trembled, watching as her own boyfriend chose to stay and complete his studies- rather then go help her.

Isabeau looked at the ring on her finger; a promise from Tom to always love her. She sighed loudly, pulling it off for all to see and slamming it on his desk. There was laughter and mocking sounds in the class, but Isabeau was already storming out in rage. Rushing to her parked car, knowing this journey could possibly take days if she goes slow. But she had to try.

For somewhere, her own Mother is being tortured-

Hands tied behind herself, all Miria could feel was big rough hands on her upper thigh; forcing them open. Nothing left to do but squirm; 049 was like an animal, never saying a word, just diving in and licking her exposed womanhood. Leaving her to beg and cry and shake, but in his mind, he is oblivious to the fact Miria wanted him to stop for she does not love him- he thinks she is playing hard to get, truly.

So, 049 lifted her a little; hands on her backside as he ate her out with accuracy and ferocity. Tongue swirling her clit, watching her body twitch. Whispering as she neared an orgasm, "oh? Did I say you could come?"

Miria cried harder, meeting his eyes as he retracted and sent her a breathless smile. Before diving back in, tongue targeting her clit again. Wet muscle moving so slowly, torturing her as he denied her an orgasm, but kept her body on edge.

He suddenly let go, and Miria thought it was over. Puffing and panting, forced to stand in this bondage against the wall. But she struggled as 049 returned, placing a vibrator mercilessly between her thighs; directly on her already throbbing womanhood.

"AGHHH, PLEASE!"

Miria screamed for a first, legs barely able to support her as she shuddered. "Why would I stop? You tried to run away. I know many people who would do much worse then this to punish you," he turned it up a notch, watching her groan and hang her head low, "besides, I think the cute look of disappointment and humiliation as I punish you is enough to satisfy that you will one day learn you have no choice."

Exhausted, her poor body could not focus on denying the torture because she was too busy trying to just stay conscious. Forced to feel every tingle and touch, she puffed and panted and tried drifting off to a world of daydreams instead. But 049 grasped her chin, studying her coldly. Feeling her forehead, and how hot and sweaty she was- watching as her head instantly drooped.

"Oh, my poor little wife..." he cooed, "I warned you, that you would not be able to stand what punishment I had lined up if you misbehaved." He paused, raising her chin again. "Didn't I?" Miria nodded weakly, letting out a small whimper.

"Now, do not cry. You brought this upon yourself, my sweet." He paused, feeling pity a little as Miria said nothing. "Oh darling, you really should not have run," he pet her hair, "look at you. You truly did think something such as this could never happen, hmm?"

"Go... to... hell..."

049 paused before chuckling. "I see..." Miria felt him dragging her body back to the bed, fastening her there with little effort. "You do not want me in your presence, Miria? Very well then, have a toy to please you instead- though I must warn you now, it does not love you like I do. And thus, shall not provide you a single break," he switched the vibrator back on between her legs, "as I would."

He spared a moment to watch her wiggle, before giving up in exhaustion. Sobbing loudly over the vibrations, unable to move an inch. "I shall see you soon, darling. And perhaps then, you will finally accept my place by your side."

He left, shutting the door behind himself. Smirking and brushing his clothes down as he listened to Miria screaming, and the toy buzzing away at maximum setting. But... she got out. His mind was instantly back on that idea, scowling. Not only must he be more vigilant now, but... did she talk to anyone when she escaped?


	4. Confess

"FUCK!"

Isabeau stomped her foot on the acceleration a few times, her car failing to start. She let her fingers meet her temples, groaning. "Mon Dieu...-" her heart stopped for a moment. Yeah, her Papa was French. But Isabeau lacked the accent, and it only came out as a force of habit occasionally. In college, she was so intent on fitting in and being modern- courtesy of growing up in a home so traditional, so she had stifled her French tongue. But, the more intense her life got, the more her Papa's words would slip out.

Hitting the wheel a few times, the young girl could only think in this moment of herself. It felt selfish, but getting her Mother out alive... just seemed impossible. Papa was freakishly strong, and Mama was too weak. And yet, with this tiny chance, Isabeau had destroyed her own path in life to do so. And yet, her own boyfriend had decided to stay instead of helping. Had two people refused the test, the teacher may have given her another week or so to take it. But since it was just one student, the teacher simply crossed Isabeau off the list indefinitely.

Head hitting the wheel, Isabeau growled lowly. Only able to imagine what her Mother was going through. For she did not know of the sexual tortures Miria was subjected to, in fact- to Isabeau, it seemed more like... Papa just kept Mama tied up for her own safety. She was pretty clueless really; biting her nail as she pondered how cruel Papa could truly be.

Miria heard the door creaking open, frowning and scowling her best as 049 walked in. He took a moment to simply stare at his wife's broken body. The toy still whirring at her; an uncomfortable amount of moisture pooling around her thighs. Her face bright red, sweat lining her brows which she furrowed instantly.

"My dear," he began, "I shall turn this off whilst you eat." Miria nodded frantically, whining at how strange it felt to suddenly have her womanhood free of torture. Legs slumping, but still twitching, as 049 stepped closer to her. Miria whimpered, turning to the side when 049 aimed his fingers near her mouth, chuckling at her fear. "Come now, face me, dear."

Miria turned cautiously, frowning when her husband unclipped the gag keeping her silent. Licking her somewhat bruised lips, 049 watched Miria shuffle into a better position; eyeing the soup he had prepared. "Hungry, are we?" Miria looked away. "Well, it has been roughly an hour... or two... your body must be needing nutrition at this point."

Miria looked down at her thighs, frowning at the mess her excitement had made. "Please let me take a bath..." she said quietly. "Not this time, darling." He spooned some food near her mouth, "Now eat." Miria complied, keeping her eyes locked onto his to sneak opportunities to speak between mouthfuls.

"Why can I not take a bath?" 049 spooned more food into her mouth. "Please, 049?" "Miria..." "F-Florice... I meant Florice."

"You may not take a bath, simply because you have irked me for a final time. Never before had you escaped so far." "But... please! I was just frightened! You yelled at me! I... I have not had time to myself for over eighteen years... do you think you would not go crazy?!"

049 hummed. "Well... I quite agree." Miria held hope in her eyes. "Except, I am not in your predicament. Perhaps one could say I was, at the foundation. And you ran back then too." Miria's smile dropped. "I must confess, I do not get satisfaction from hurting your feelings. I want you to be happy, true. But... I simply will not let you go, no matter the cost."

He tried spooning food closer to her mouth again, but Miria turned away. "Not hungry?" "Mmmh..." Miria whined back sadly, her gaze low. 049 sighed, checking her restraints. Still tied securely, his hand went to place the toy back between her legs. "Wait! No! Please, why are you doing this?!" "Because," he ushered the gag back into her mouth with some struggle, "even if it takes a life-time, you will love me entirely. And this newfound flame, this silly cynical idea that I am not your husband, or you will leave, is going to be destroyed one way or another."

The toy turned back on. "MPPPPPH!" 049 chuckled as he reached the door. "Not to fret... at least... two more hours of that," he gestured to the toy, "and I will let you rest."

He shut the door, and Miria tried moving her legs- only causing the toy to target her clit more. Driving herself crazy, she tried to remind herself that two hours was not long. But the countdown drove her even crazier. Trying to move, screaming into the gag again. 049 would not come to help her, no matter how she cried out.

Frowning, 049 got to work downstairs. He had papers strewn all over; surgical nonsense about making his bride eternal. Things that only could make sense to him. But, unable to focus on that for another moment, he turned to the dress he had taken downstairs with himself. The one he had made for Miria to marry him in.

Just holding it, seeing the small tears from the wedding night- had him panting. The memory of how his wife had looked that day; his head tipping back, holding the dress to his heart. "My little Miria..." he cooed, blushing as he held the dress. "Ah, it still smells as good as you, darling." He chuckled, looking to the ceiling where his wife was tucked away.

Setting to work, 049 paused as he tapped his fingers one by one on the table. His thoughts on his daughter, so trendy and... well, 'cool.' He chuckled at the modern talk. Deep in thought, he bit his lip and wondered what Miria would truly like to wear. Had he been too pushy in making her a perfect wife? In fact, now that he thought about it, she had never worn anything he had not wanted her to...

Her favourite colour was purple, correct? So dyeing the dress could not be too hard. Actually- he sighed in frustration. That would be a little difficult. Gosh... he did not know this would be so hard. But for Miria, he would do anything.

So he destroyed every neatly packed cupboard, searching high and low for materials. "Aha!" He smiled, finding some purple ribbons and materials. "Thank goodness..." he sighed aloud, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

Hearing a small scream from upstairs, he chuckled fondly as he took a seat. "Only the best for you, Miria."

And so he got to work again. Pricking his fingers plenty of times with the needle. "Ah," he sighed, "I guess I am a little rusty..." he chuckled. "Since little Isabeau came along, I had no reason to keep doing this. But now, I have every reason to put you in heaven, looking like an angel in the clothes I shall make you, darling."

Humming to himself, 049 sewed the purple ribbon along the waist of the dress and the top of the chest piece. Ripping off any excuse of remaining sleeves, patting down any dirt off the dress. Carefully tying a neat lilac bow around the waist also, smiling at it as he done so.

"Good heavens!"

049 looked to the clock, seeing three hours had passed. He hurried back upstairs, opening the door in a hurry to see Miria on the verge of passing out. Her head tiredly turning to face him, silently begging. 049 fought his blush to remove the toy, saving his little wife.

"Quickly my flower," he held a glass to her lips, supporting her head. "Drink, for me." Miria sipped carefully, downing the whole glass before gasping with her eyes shut from impact. Rough fingers wiping the lines of water from her chin, 049 smiling as she caught her breath.

"Are you quite alright?" He asked, sitting on the bed edge. Miria chose not to answer, looking away. "Miria?" She flinched when he touched her. "Miria..." she flinched again, elbowing him off of herself. "Miria! Do not push me off of you." She whimpered, burying her face in the pillow and wishing to not look at him.

049 let out a string of offended noise, suddenly climbing between her legs and separating them. Miria instantly reacted, trying to shut her thighs and yelping when he ripped them open hungrily. "You misbehaved already?" He licked his lips, staring at her womanhood. "You really must be begging for human affection, after that little toy was done with you."

"AGHHH! FLORICE PLEASE-"

His tongue swirling around her clit, sending her crazy. Miria winced when he purred at the taste, lapping at the juices the toy had created for her. "C'est vraiment délicieux~~~"

Blushing, body twitching uncontrollably, 049 pushed her legs down- since they were twitching and her toes were curling unnaturally. "Calm down, Miria..." he cooed, "just an hour of this, alright?" AN HOUR? Her eyes widened, body wriggling to get free. "Please!" She whined. "Do not make me gag you, Miria..."

She fell silent, preferring the gag in truth. At least when gagged, he would not ask her to say his name or the like. Things humiliating... but 049 chuckled, knowing this. The predicament of wanting to be gagged to stop herself saying his name, and the shame and embarrassment of asking to be gagged. A little game he played, lovingly licking at his wife's entrance as he grinned to himself at the idea of how he so loved teasing and pleasing Miria at the same time.

"Miria..." 049 pulled back slowly, making eye contact. "I keep you tucked away, here in this room, where I can taste you whenever I like. And every time I do so, you act indifferent and unwanting... but you get so excited instantly, and lately..." he chuckled, staring intently at her with a smug grin, "you have been grinding your hips against me, when I do this."

Miria's eyes widened. "You're lying!" She cried. "Well," he clicked his tongue, "let's put it to the test, shall we?"

She wriggled when his tongue met her clit again. Now having to think about not... supposedly grinding against him, as well as not moaning his name, and not screaming too loud- life was just a misery.

"One day, you will confess you truly love me. Miria..." Miria whined, "Oh, and do not fret." He breathed heavily, kissing her thighs before diving back in to eat her out. "I shall enjoy reminding you of each time you 'not so accidentally' grind against me."


	5. Collapse

"Look, I apologise Miria, for leaving the toy on that extra hour. I sincerely do. I got carried away." Miria sniffled, trying not to cry. "Y-you said t-two hours a-and I could rest... b-but you c-continued."

"Now, Miria... You're burning up." 049 sternly placed a hand on her forehead, watching her nose run and eyes leak. She was a soaking hot sweaty mess, boiling hot to touch, and on the verge of collapse.

What better time to show her the dress, eh?

The two had been in the bedroom, sitting and regaining their strength from that session of immeasurable pleasure. "Please, do not touch me..." Miria sobbed lowly, turning her gaze from 049. "Miria, I tell you now. Look upon my face, or you will further regret this choice you are making." "What choice?" She turned back to him; letting him see the tears streaming down her face. "You use me... you abuse me... you just... tell me what to do, and expect me to love you for it."

Sobbing openly, Miria tried pushing off the hands grappling her. "Now, Miria... listen to me." "What for?! I... I cannot do this anymore."

He tugged her into his arms with ease, gently brushing hair from her moist cheeks with tenderness and content eyes. "Miria, my darling, my love, my life... you and I have been through hell and back, but here you cry openly that my heart is not yours. I made a mistake with the timings of your punishment. An accident- no less."

"But that's just it." Miria tried, and failed, to push herself out of his iron grip. "You hurt me... so much... nearly twenty years..." her voice crackled as she spoke. "I...I feel so tender..." she gripped the fabric of her shirt. "I feel so lost. So confused as to why my feelings suddenly show themselves, after so long of letting you hurt me!" "Now Miria-"

"And it's driving me insane... knowing this truth, these feelings of mine, should not exist; they fall on cruel, deaf unloving ears anyway."

049 was a bit startled, unsure how to respond. "I do these things to teach you that you are mine." "You took my entire life from me! My family, my work, my friends... You've shaped me into this," she plucked at her shirt, "and I barely recall who I used to be."

"Am I not yours already?" She cried, feeling so worn and hopeless. "Living in rags," she sobbed, "forced to your every whim... why do you still enjoy harming me?" 049 shook his head. "You are just tired..."

Managing to scowl at him, she spat her words. "You have changed me so much, that it merely justifies the truth." 049 tilted his head. "What truth?"

"That you never loved me. That I, my existence, is for you to hurt and use."

Pinned quickly to the bed, Miria kept her scowl as 049 chuckled down at her. "Miria, darling, you mistake me." She flinched when his hand stroked her hair. "I love you entirely. I was quite willing to show Isabeau this, in mortality. I have only wanted you in this life, and the next. I will kill anyone who takes you from me, even our own child."

Miria went to plead, went to scream; hushed by his lips devouring hers. "No-" she could barely speak from his hungry lust filled lips attacking hers, "not my daughter..."

"Ah, funny to think you once had to be prompted to speak to her." He leant closer to her face from above, keeping her pinned beneath him. "What could have changed that, hmm? You told me you spoke to nobody, on your little... rendezvous." Miria gulped, shrinking into the mattress silently. 049 only laughed, snaking his hand behind her head.

Miria felt her neck being lifted, panting as 049 carefully pressed his lips to her ear. A shiver running down her spine. "I told you... never to lie to me."

"Ah!"

His lips met her neck, nibbling and sucking hastily. The pain mixed with the incredible shivering pleasure, leaving Miria wtithing beneath him. His hand going from her breast, into her pants. Digits seperating her lips, pushing against her clit with calculated moves.

Miria felt her body trembling, trying to stay silent. "And, my dear, you can only lie to yourself for so long." Fondling his wife, 049 watched her attempt another scowl. "Lie a-about what?!" She stuttered.

"How much you truly love me."

"I don't-"

049 removed his hand, leaning on his knees as he slipped out of his robes. Left with his exposed charming body, he gracefully positioned himself as he was before. Falling to his wife's side, a cheeky smile on his face as he leant on his hand, propped up by his arm. His other hand casually swatting away Mirias, going back to fondle her.

Miria tried tugging his hand out, tried moving her legs, but his strength and the chain around her ankle led her to give up. Hands gripping the covers beneath, she let out tiny puffs of air to help slow the oncoming orgasm she felt.

"Twenty years of this, and you never fail to," he got close, his lips against her ear to whisper the last part, "come for me."

"Ah!~~~"

049 chuckled as she twitched, releasing at the sound of his voice as if by command.

He pulled out his soaked digits, eyeing them for a while. "Come, I have something to show you." Miria winced as he kissed his fingers clean. "I'll savour the taste, until I can taste you again later."

"Disgusting!" she snapped, before she was picked up bridal style and carried down the stairs by force. "Let go of me!" She whimpered.

"As you wish."

He plopped her down on the couch, waiting in anticipation as his wife's eyes met the dress 049 was working on. "I told you, darling, I would begin preparations to make you my eternal bride right away." He paused.

'No, no, no, please-' Mirias mind was swirling.

"But what better way, then for us to get married another time?"

Miria blacked out instantly. Tiny body collapsing at the sheer horror and memory of her time being forced into marriage, trained to be a wife.

049 pondered, concluding Miria simply must be excited or tired. "My poor dear," he cooed, wrapping rope around her body to bind her as she slept. "You cannot escape me. Not now, not ever. You may sleep, but your body remains here with me. But in death, I shall not let it take you."


	6. Not so bad

"There, are you feeling alright now?" Miria blinked a few times, finding herself wrapped up tightly in a blanket. Her body limp against 049's chest, who had wrapped his arms around her to keep her snuggled against himself. "Miria?" Miria let out a small noise of disapproval; trying to move, only to find she was wrapped too tight in this blanket, and 049's arms. Grumbling, blowing off steam so that her bangs moved a little- flinching with discontent when 049 leaned in and pecked her cheek tenderly.

He chuckled and watched how Miria tried rubbing her kissed cheek on the blanket, only for his hand to grasp her neck gently and place more kisses on the same cheek. "Can you stop that?!" He merely chuckled, kissing her again. "Ugh, get off!" She snapped, trying to rise from her seat. "Gross." "Oh come now, you cannot be that unaware of my affections for you?" Miria shook her head. "Oh I know how you feel about me, but I will never, ever, give those feelings back!"

"You have not changed a bit. Truly." He squeezed her tighter to himself. "This," he paused, smiling brightly, "is what made me love you to begin with." Miria frowned. I remember it so clearly; the day they told me a new researcher would come in. He leant over Miria a little, twisting his wrist for her to see. "I had gestured as so, showing how little I had to give in interest to the situation." His hand returned to her side. "And then, you had walked in. My dear little Miria."

Miria huffed, looking elsewhere. "There was this certain... walk you done. A spring in your step, the way your waves of hair bounced with each movement you made. Your tiny hands pulling out the chair, and the look of indifference you had given me in that moment." Miria rolled her eyes. "You looked upon me with not even curiosity, whilst I was so lost in your eyes. And, when you spoke to me for the first time... simply addressing yourself- your voice, was like the smoothest silk." He chuckled, pulling Miria even tighter. "And that night, I had not slept a wink; for I had ran through every possibility, believing myself to never love again. And yet, no matter how hard I tried, I could not erase you from my mind. My sweet little maiden."

"Sure." Miria spat, looking away again. "I became more compliant, simply because I wanted to see you. Though you would never know it, I endured many the long session of interviews and the like, all to see you again. And, to my luck, the foundation had gifted me with the ring I had given you that fateful night we had embraced. An offering on their behalf, you could say, for my well-behaviour. But I knew there was only one person I would want to wear it. And thus, through many the year of waiting for you to fall in love, I had kept the ring safe in my pocket- waiting for you to notice me, as I had noticed you."

Miria let out a tiny noise; feeling 049 grab her chin gently, tilting her gaze over her shoulder so she could see his smirk. "Are you blushing?" "No!" She stuttered, looking away once his grip was released. "It is quite alright, my little Miria."

"The first day with you as my wife... I know... it was difficult." He paused, remembering how he had left himself little choice but to tie her to the bed. "I had waken before you that next morning, and watched you sleep so peacefully. Do you remember what happened next?" Miria pursed her lips, looking down with a pout. "You woke me up... offering me breakfast."

"Precisely." He smiled. "I still recall, to this day, the small little gasp from your lips as I carried you down the stairs, seating you at the table. Telling you that you would never lift a finger once more; for I would do anything and everything for you." Miria could recall that day.

She had felt him shake her gently, waking and being carried bridal style by a very happy plague doctor, seated with breakfast as he sat beside her. Occasionally stroking her hair, other times simply smiling and staring into her eyes. And he had turned for but a moment, returning with this cheesy grin as he led her to the garden where the candles had burnt out, and the wedding décor still stood.

Taking her hands in his, leading her into a dance- despite how she seemed confused. Even then, Miria had asked if this was still some kind of joke, or if he would be letting her leave. She remembered him pulling her close, gently guiding her head onto his shoulder as he began a slow waltz in the morning dew of the field their small home resided on.

"Do you recall, Miria?" Miria nodded. "It is such a special memoir that shall forever reside in my heart and soul," he smiled, "for all eternity, I shall love you- Miria."

Miria blushed again, shaking herself to stop the flustered expression appearing. "Come now, my princess... it is alright. Please, do not turn away in shame. I will love you no matter what."

049 was so lost in thought. "And then our little Isabeau joined us, did she not?" Miria nodded. "Such a small infant, in fact- I was worried when I had held her, letting you rest. I took our little pride and joy to the window, pointing at the hills." 049 sighed. "'All of this, will be yours to explore when you have found your feet.' I said to her, and then she had looked at me." He paused. "Those eyes... 'you have your Mama's sparkle, little one.'"

Miria bit her lip, thinking about her daughter and that phone call. "Then I heard movement, and saw you had woken. Bringing our little girl to your side. And just as it had begun, you were hesitant to even look upon our daughter for the longest time. You know, you left me to look after the house, you and our little one... I truly had a tough time." "I am sorry..." Miria looked away, despite being constantly on the verge of collapse back then and unable to help anyway- or unwilling to.

"There was this time..." 049 began, "I had finally put the little one to bed, cleaned down the house, the dishes from supper, locked the front door- and I finally walked into our bedroom." Miria stiffened. "I found you sleeping so peacefully. You were even snoring gently," he teased. "Hey... stop..." Miria whined quietly. "It was sweet, and you were a new Mother. You were exhausted!" He exclaimed proudly.

"But yes... I had finally come to lay by your side. I was rather excited to sleep next to you; I was stressed and exhausted, and being so close to you made it all worth it." He paused. "And the second I went to hold you, little Isabeau began crying again." Miria laughed. "Now, see, you are laughing at me." "Sorry..." Miria giggled.

"Yes, our little one was quite the racket. She kept me up for so many days. But... it was worth it." He nuzzled into Miria, holding her against himself lovingly.

"I..." Miria spoke gently. "Yes, go on." "Well... I.." her voice trembled. "I... was thankful when... you understood I did not want to nurse her.... I know... it was what you wanted, and asked of me. But..." her voice broke at the end into a nervous silence again. "Anything," he pulled her into a kiss, breaking it to speak, "you wish of me, my Miria... I will give to you."

'Aside freedom...' Miria thought, wriggling out of the blanket wrapping her tightly. Much smaller then 049, she studied his somewhat curly raven locks. The look in his eyes as he studied her, smiling contently. Miria felt tears stinging her vision, her chest rising and falling uncharacteristically. And maybe she had finally snapped at the memory of her awful life, because her tiny hands had reached for 049's neck, holding him in place as she leant up and kissed him.

His lips felt so warm, and he let himself be pushed down as Miria crawled over him. Her tiny hands in his larger ones, pushing him down. His features content, not at all out of control as little Miria writhed above his body. He captured her, he done awful things- and yet... deep down, he had never failed to tell her he loved her. He had never once judged her in her most awful moments, and he, they, had become the greatest coincidence.

He, in his captivity, in his solitude, had found not just a friend, but someone to look forward to seeing. Miria, in her work efforts and timeless beauty, had captured his heart. No, it was not a coincidence- "We were fate." 049 cooed, panting hard a little as he brushed hair from her face and sat up again. Both just staring into each others eyes, smiling and breathing hard.

"Florice..." Miria gently called; the words 'I love you,' so eager on her hesitant tongue. But, she had to remind herself of escape. "Miria... you call my name so beautifully. Like you do in my dreams each night, there amongst the stars in the dark- you watch over me." He guided her tiny hand to his heart, smiling at her.

"And even now, in our shared heartbreak- I love you forevermore." "Heartbreak?" Miria asked, curiously watching him palm her stomach. "Our little lost one." Miria hummed, looking away shamefully. "Living in my heart and soul, I will keep our memories- Miria. Even if it is too painful for you, I will carry you onwards and wait for the day when you will be ready to hear them again."

"No matter the distance, for you, Miria- I will walk." Miria giggled. "You proved that when you..." she stopped herself, "when you... came to get me." 049 hummed, knowing she meant her own kidnapping.

"When... we lost our little one, I had watched over you for many days." Miria nodded, timid. "You were in and out of consciousness. And, I stayed by your bedside- keeping little Isabeau by my side. The little one did not understand what was happening, and thus we sat together and read her favourite tales, whilst you slept peacefully by my side."

Miria pondered for a moment. "I barely remember any of it..." her voice distant and sorrowful. "Then," he clasped her hands in his, "do not try to. I shall tell you instead."

"You and I had been at the table, Isabeau in my arms. And you let out this sound so... I dread to even recall it. You sounded so... pained." Miria looked down. "I put the little one away the best I could, carrying you with all my strength upstairs. And you were screaming and crying, holding me tightly. You even done this." He pointed to the back of his neck, a hidden scar beneath his locks. "That... was me?" "Yes... an accident, dear. You were in such pain, tugging at me to let you go."

049 had this look of sorrow in his eyes. "We set you in the tub, and you were still crying and screaming. And..." he paused, "about twenty minutes later, you had stopped bleeding. I put you to bed, hoping and preying you would be alright. But you were out like a light. I..." he paused again, trembling a little. "I thought I had lost you at first; I had gone to get Isabeau to see she was alright, and I come back to you... your eyes shut, body still. I... remember crying in that moment, perhaps the stress." He laughed nervously. "Our daughter did not want to let me go, despite how I tried to tend to you. But... you had a pulse, and thus, I stayed with you for many days and hours until you would regain your strength enough for me to feed you."

Miria looked away. "I apologise, Miria... I... let us change the tone, oui?" He eyed his saddened wife with a smirk. "You know," he placed his hands on her shoulders, tucking her into him again. "Hey!" Miria whined, cut off when he squeezed her gently. "One of my favourite things here, will always be my adventures making you and little Isabeau clothes." Miria scoffed, trying to push him off. "I am hardly what one can call... 'fashionable,' but with a little needle work, I hope I managed just fine." Miria folded her arms. "Well, it is not exactly Gucci, but... it kept my warm. So, thank you."

"Gucci?" "Never mind." 049 sighed, hugging her tighter. "And, I remembered how you would always wear purple ribbons in your hair. So, I always fashioned your clothes from those fabrics." "Okay prince charming," Miria teased, "but where did you find these fabrics?"

049 fell silent. The look in his eyes darkening. Surely, he did not find them from his victims? Miria suddenly felt not-so- light-hearted. The reality weighing in again. "Thankfully the owners of this house were..." he thought for a moment, "adventurous. And many of my items were once theirs." Miria followed his eyes to the spare rope laying a few feet away, feeling like throwing up.

"Clothes," her voice rang out, "how did Isabeau even know about fashion and the like?" 049 turned his gaze back to Miria's shaking orbs. "Well... you see..." he cleared his throat, "once I had... 'put you to sleep,' the little one would ask me to take her to town."

"Town?! There is a town-" "Hush now, Miria." Miria went silent, knowing he was going to get aggressive if he thought she was trying to leave. But this sickening feeling was returning, and the need to run was rising. But, the feeling of his fingers and tongue burned fear into her mind. Run, and be punished- stay, and be punished.

"She was so often drawn to those sinful magazines full of pretty pictures and dresses. Yes, they were aimed at children. But, they came with these silly little... plastic phones and accessories attached. Teaching children the sins of adulthood too early!" Miria hid her eyes rolling, blowing off steam. "Little girls like those things, Florice." "Not in this house they do not." He spat, folding his arms.

"I... am sorry." Miria cowered, feeling him pull her back in and nuzzled her. "It is alright, dear." He stroked her hair. "But, let us not forget other memoirs. Non?"

His tone changed, and Miria did not like this at all. "That one time... the eve of Christmas. I had lit the fire, and asked you to wait by the fire for me. Not a single bondage on your precious body; I thought I could trust you." Miria gulped, trapped in his tightening arms. "I had prepared us a meal fit for kings, wine set out too. I had planned such a joyous night for us once our little daughter had shut her eyes. And yet, I return to find you hobbling outside with our infant in your arms."

"Florice, please, it was such a long time ago-" "Silence!" He quipped, squeezing Miria so hard that she fell limp. "It was snowing that eve, and I very nearly lost sight of you. Your footsteps concealed by fallen snow, but thankfully I followed the infants cold cries to see you taking shelter beneath a tree. And, the look on your face showed you did not expect me to be there."

Miria remembered that well. He had dragged her by her clothes inside, throwing her by the fire. Forcing her to warm up; her limbs outstretched to the cot where Isabeau cried, as he lay between her thighs. She could still recall her fingers entwining in his locks, trying to push him off- but he kept tucking his lips and tongue deeper into her womanhood. 'An early gift,' he had called it- instead of punishment.

"And the time you had 'taken a bath,' only for me to find you near to drowning." Miria wheezed: "Florice, I... cannot... breathe!" "Oh, goodness!" He loosened his grip, studying her. "Miria, are you okay?" "Yep... fine..." she breathed hard.

"I am so sorry... oh, my darling. Let me look at you." He shuffled Miria around, laying her flat on the couch. His big hand holding the back of her neck as always, looking her over. "Florice, I am fine- MMMPH!"

His lips crashed onto hers, tugging at her body whilst he savoured her taste. Miria writhed, trying with all her might to get free. Her tiny hands battering his broad chest, as he kissed her passionately. "Flori-" he kept kissing her, unable to stop himself. Her arms falling limp and rigid as she let him have his way. His hand grasping her left breast, rubbing and feeling its shape.

He pulled back; face red, breathing hard with doting eyes set on Miria. "Florice..." Miria begged slowly, "don't..."

But 049 looked up, around the room, focusing on the long mirror a few feet away. His excitement clouding his judgement as he got up and pulled it in front of the arm of the sofa. "Florice, what are you doing?!" Miria snapped, wincing as he tore the clothes off her body in hunger.

"Ah!" She tried covering her breasts, tugged closer. "I am sorry, my love. I must simply have you."

He stripped quickly, laying himself down and pulling Miria over his body. She kicked and fought with all her strength, feeling his tongue meet her opening. "No!" She whined, embarrassed and red in the face. It was never an easy thing to let him do; it was always humiliating. But to be forced to sit on his face in such a position, whilst he made her excited... that was truly torture.

"Ah!" She cried again, feeling her body twitching as he sucked on her lips noisily. He spoke for a moment, pointing to the mirror. "Look at your your expression, it shows the truth," 049 chuckled. "You love the way I touch you."

Miria went to protest, feeling his digits roughly entering her at an awkward angle, whilst his mouth peppered kisses to her clit that left tingles down her spine and legs. "Florice, please!" She covered her eyes in shame. Five or so minutes passing, forced to come for him loudly as she felt her body involuntarily grinding- only making her face redder as he laughed.

He shuffled up, propped by his elbows as Miria glared at him. "I thought you did not grind on me, you said?" Miria could feel him aligning with her entrance; sweat pooling her forehead as she realised she was not protesting. What was happening? Was she content to let him have sex with her?

Miria gasped, feeling him enter her without permission. Gritting her teeth, watching him smirk at her. He had never not given her warning before sex, and this felt so strange. And yet, his big hand gripped her hands behind her body with ease; his height difference aiding him, as he watched Miria move up and down by her own will.

Panic and pleasure swirling in her mind. Was she falling in love? No! Staring back at her reflection in disgust, turning away from it and to the ceiling as she exclaimed her passions. 049 trailing his hand down her body, admiring it as she rode him.

Pleasure ending, they both collapse onto the sofa and settled their breathing. A memoir flooding Miria's mind as his hand reached hers. It was her first month or so trapped in this forsaken home; and 049 had trapped her against the wall, his hands in hers and his eyes on her defiant raging ones. 'Tell me when your birthday is, my little Miria,' his voice had been full of warning. And she kept kicking and fighting, until of course his usual sexual actions commenced. Her body lying still, fingers toying her... and this was all so new back then; Miria had broke instantly, screaming out her birthday on repeat as he chuckled, and kept on torturing her.

Now, 049 almost always bought Miria flowers. At least once a week, it was a regular thing. But sometimes, he managed to bring her other trinkets he could find. Usually jewels and pendants, but only if they related to his dear Miria. A pendent with a moonflower on the outside, pretty ribbons in her hair, sweet treats if he could nab them for her. Going out in public, without a mask, was extremely traumatising for 049. In fact, as Isabeau grew, he sent her to do so- but now, it was back to him. A long walk to and from the town, making sure to take different routes each time. Nobody could or would know of the homes location.

His mind was usually set on how he had trained Miria so well. He would keep Miria tied close to the door in the days she were pregnant. Gagged, and unable to move too far. She would be forced to wait for his return, where he would remove her gag and wait with expectant eyes for Miria to say her line.

'Welcome home, my love.' That was his favourite. And then he would lean down, refusing to untie her until she kissed his cheek, or lip preferably. Yes, 049's stubborn attitude had worked well. He would then lead Miria like some kind of chained animal to the kitchen, teaching her to sit and ask about his day. And, if 049 was not satisfied, he would make her do it all over again. And Lord only knows the things he would do if she refused.

Regaining their strength, the couple slowly sat up and stared at one another. "Miria... you know I love you, yes?" Miria nodded sadly. "And," he palmed her face, "you do know that those words yesterday harmed me? I would never use or harm you." Miria nodded, feeling him lean in for a kiss whilst wrapping his robes around her nude body.

'Maybe... he is not so bad after all...'


	7. Transition

Miria opened sat at the table, staring intently at the dress laying over it. "Miria, this is impossible." 049 huffed. "I am hurt, honestly." Miria looked down, grumpy. "I am sure, in time, you will realise this is truly the best outcome for you." Miria met his eyes, frowning deeper.

"But... everything you have done... all the torture-" "Ah, yes, I am terribly sorry about the restraints and the like. I simply had to ensure you would not leave me." Miria kept silent. "They were entirely necessary, before you object," he spoke lowly, "you were simply confused, and too precious to let loose..."

Sitting freely at the table, 049 studied Miria intently when she looked away. For one, she was sitting nicely and behaving without any restraints. Secondly, she knew he was intending on marrying her again, and she knew snippets of his plan to make her 'eternal.' But, the point is, Miria had willingly given him her body and was now not attempting escape.

Miria looked away, shoulders slumped and eyes dulling a little. 049 scraped his chair gently, hovering closer over her- using his fingers to cup her chin, lifting her gaze onto his. "I see you, my Miria. So young, so serene; you are wrapped within beauty. You captivate me, that sheen in your eyes and hair like silk. I knew I would be your groom, even when you said you would wed me never. See me now, my ray of light, you are bound to me, as I am to you."

Silence only came from the uncertain woman. "See, whilst I knew you were precious... I truly did want to let you live your life, though it pained me to take away your passion- I had to take you here." Nothing. "It was not that I took you from your life, but... you had tried to leave me. Whilst I... admit to keeping tabs when possible, and planned on keeping you from the foundation once I found freedom, you truly did attempt to alter fate and leave myself."

Nothing again, and now 049 was getting flustered. "Well... as you have... agreed to wed me again. I have some rules to reinstate with you." Miria folded her arms, huffing and looking away. "Firstly, not a single escape attempt shall be made again- ever. Failure to comply to this will... make me rather... cross. And, I know you are aware of the repercussions." Miria went to speak, but he held his finger up and stopped her. "Second: I will allow you certain freedoms, however... the process of this procedure might be rather painful. I am certain staying indoors will be better for you." Miria frowned, already hearing his controlling nature attending him. "Ah, I apologise, my sweet..." he cooed, laughing a little, "I understand your transition will be rather confusing. But, what have we not achieved or been through together, which has not been so?"

"Florice," Miria whimpered, "please... I... do not think I should be made... immortal." "Not to worry," he purred, "all you must do is listen and obey, after all- it is much easier. All your needs will be met, and I will spare no expense in making your life even further in satisfactory." Miria kept pouting, wanting to speak, but did not know what to say. "The views you have had for years are beautiful," 049 gestured to the hills, "but if you behave, you shall be ensured that you will be allowed walks and many other privaliges you had lost upon your arrival here."

049 chuckled at the glimmer in Miria's eyes. "See? Is it not enjoyable, this life with me? You can have freedom, my love, if you simply just agree and love me entirely- as you did a moment ago." Miria blushed at her impending passion she had felt for 049 moments prior. She looked away, eyeing a knife left carelessly on the side.

"Miria?" She drowned out his voice, twitching and wiggling her legs as she stared at the blade. "Miria..." she reached for it, not even realising she was doing so. But, not even a second passed before 049 had snatched it from her and grasped her body against his. "What were you plotting to do, Miria?"

Miria could feel her breathing spinning out of control, and her heart beating hard. "How disappointing..." she heard him say, "I hoped we could go through this transition with ease. How simple minded must you be to assume I would let you hurt yourself, or me." "Florice... I was just..." 049 hummed, angry. "Just what?" Miria looked away in shame. "You belong to me, and only me, now and forever. And, I am going to seal you back in our room so that you make no more foolish mistakes, and I may continue preparations on the rest of your... eternal life."

Vision blurring, Miria put up no fight when she was taken to the bedroom and locked inside. She was too focused on the confusion she felt. The lack of fight, the dull and emotionless obedience she felt towards 049, the scattered memoirs and traumatic experiences- was her time as a mortal being really at an end? Was she going to live the rest of her life like this? And yet, even with her heart pounding in terror, her mind said:

'There is no need to worry anymore.'

She knew since the day she arrived, there was no escape. So now, all the time constantly, these shed tears would no longer arise. Their worth was gone, because there was no effort left inside of her to fight. Deflating on the bed, staring at the falling sun, Miria let her arm reach across the bed slowly to grasp the beams of sunlight snaking in.

'Where is Isabeau? Does she care? Is anyone going to rescue me?' She shut her eyes, refusing to cry. 'Someone would have come by now. Maybe I should stop hesitating and get on with this life of mine. But...' She grasped the sheets, whimpering and burying her face into them.

No moment is the same as the one before, and the past had become unreachable. Her mind kept asking her to move ahead and submit to 049, and yet her heart kept looking to the sun and hoping for an answer for freedom. 'Please,' she sobbed openly, 'just gently tell me if there is still hope...'

"If I could have one more wish..." she spoke gently aloud. One would ask for freedom, and that was what confused her so. Should she not think of freedom instead of her parents, in this moment? Their warm smiles, their loving hands, their pride when she had left. Knowing that they would pass from this world, and she could possibly live on forever...

'I just wish I could have said my goodbyes...'


	8. Human

Isabeau drove steadily along the thin muddy road. Her heart stammering a little. Her mind was set on her boyfriend, her dream- all things she had built specifically to run from her family, and now she was fleeing back to them. Occasionally sparing a glance to her reflection as she drove, wincing so that her tears fell faster. She took her Father like a drug; a bad taste on her tongue.

She could remember his soft hands in her hair, braiding her locks. Her hands shook on the wheel. 'Mama is just sick. But she loves you, and nobody can bring her a smile as you do.' She winced again, a tear slithering down her face. 'My little girl, the joy of my life.' And yet, he had been so cruel and cold when she had been forced to leave.

The rain broke through the dark clouds overhead, and Isabeau bit her lip as she drove faster. The rain always came at the worst time, when her mind was set solely on the things she had done for her Father. She was his little girl, his little abomination- and yet, papa was the one person in the world who would never betray of hurt her. And... she did not cry when she left at first, her grip tightening on the wheel; this time, she had to know what her Daddy was...

It hurt. Her soul was aching, and she felt detached and isolated. The one person who knew her entirely had chosen love, a hostage woman, over her. She knew what her Mama went through, and yet she chose to leave her behind. How can anyone be so cruel?

Miria was a broken person. Miria was lost in the world, harmed physically and unhealed mentally. When Miria had only tried to defend herself from a lifetime of torment, Isabeau had walked away. Her Mother's agony was too much to bare, even with her promise as a daughter to stay and protect her. And now, some twenty years later, Isabeau was driving through the rain- sobbing, preying Miria and God would forgive her for walking away.

Stopping in a small pile of traffic, Miria rolled down the window and slid her finger against the rain drops. She tried to write her Mother's name, but the droplets kept disappearing. Isabeau winced again; thinking of those fake friendships, those stupid laughing sessions, those smiles of her friends- all whilst Miria was breaking silently. She had tried to let her Mother go, knowing she was suffering, and Isabeau knew she could not blame Miria if she never spoke to her daughter ever again. But, for what it was worth, saving her Mother would bring peace of mind to the tears soaking the young girls features.

She stared at the red light, daydreaming. She could remember the time she had hugged onto her Mother excitedly, baking- she thinks it was. Miria had pushed her away so angrily, panic in her eyes. Isabeau had spoken about being strong, escaping her Mother's foul clutches. But, the whole time, Miria was this petrified being... trapped, enslaved. How wrong she was to walk away back then. Miria could not care for Isabeau, because she could not even care for herself.

"I will be okay, is that what you need me to say?" Isabeau asked herself out loud, despising and weeping louder at her own selfish behaviour. She knew she had to save Mama, but she too felt damaged. She felt lied to, abandoned and betrayed. When you come from a broken family, you cannot buy or adopt a new one- you can find people to cure yourself, to heal. But, Isabeau had thrown away any friends and romance she had for her Mother's sake.

Rage, hatred, anger, confusion- Isabeau wept louder, pressing her forehead on the wheel. 'Go ahead and cry little girl,' her mind mocked. And cry she did, deafeningly loud. Memories of her rebellious college life; smoking, doing drugs, sex in her boyfriends car... things that felt so right and free, but now felt so dirty and evil. This anger, the only thing keeping her going. A hatred for herself, a blame for herself, gritting her teeth as the traffic moved on.

Five minutes away from the home, and the car began jittering until it came to a stop. "No, no, no!" Isabeau hit the wheel several times, waiting for something to happen with a look of disappointment on her face.

Another ten minutes passed, and Isabeau stepped out of the vehicle. Flipping her middle finger at the car, she messed with her hair and growled aloud. Crouching, breathing to ten in panic as her vision faded in and out. Looking back up to the hills; a look of rage in her eyes, her lips sealed in a straight line.

'I have had enough.' She set foot on the muddy hill. "I am not a broken person," she huffed and puffed, "I am done being a slave to this lie." Falling onto her front, she used her bare hands to slowly ascend the hill. The mud soaking her designer coat and polished nails. Her life of riot and fun flashing in her mind, all of it no longer mattering as she broke through a bank of fog on all fours. Her heart being violent in her chest, fists clenched to fight whatever enemy she was going to face. This... this was the feeling she told her Mother she would feel.

Freedom.

~~~~

Isabeau reached the front of the home, trying the door with caution. Nothing. So she crept to the window, peeking inside and assuring herself that Papa would not harm a returning daughter- no matter how abrupt her visit.

The look in her eyes bleak as she looked to the open window a floor up. "Mom!" She whispered, hearing only the wind return her call. Furrowing her brows, remembering how she had commanded her Mother to be well. Shutting her eyes as she grabbed the falling ivy, hoping for some miracle as she began climbing.

"Fuck!" The ivy snapped almost instantly, sending her falling backwards onto a pile of uneven rocks. Her spine cracking; bruises instantly forming on her pale skin. Lying still, staring out at the empty forest as if she saw a memoir that was not hers: her Mother running in terror from her Papa... wondering what is a lie, and what is not.

Clenching her fist, slowly getting up in anger. "I was created and born sick..." she looked back at the window, "but I commanded a broken woman to be well." She cracked a smirk. "How unfair of me... how cruel..." her hand clenching the ivy again, "God, I will tell you all my sins... I welcome any retribution to be sent my way, but let me give you my life for my Mother's."

Grunting as she reached the window, throwing herself inside and catching her breath on her back. She rose quickly, looking around the empty room, getting up and walking to the bed edge. Her hands shyly touching the loose rope attached to the bed frame, throwing it away in disgust. Instantly moving around the room with caution, opening draws and chests with a rage induced curiosity.

Finding a sharp knife, stuffing it into the hem of her pants, she looked outside to see her own Papa carrying her Mama in a wedding dress. With no plan, Isabeau began running down the stairs, pausing and staring at a specific room down the hall.

Unable to turn away from the big oak door, she began stepping closer to it with slow footsteps. Entranced, possessed, unable to turn away- she walked inside. Instantly wishing she had not- for inside, there was mountains of papers and diagrams everywhere.

Ritualistic drawings and anagrams drawn in what looked like blackened blood were coating multiple sketches of a woman looking familiar to her Mama. A strange language written on most of the work, and a big file labelled 'SCP-049.'

She wanted to go downstairs and confront Papa, taking Mama away to a motel for a while. However, she seemed drawn to the booklet. Unable to turn away again, she let her slim fingers open and inspect the book. Again, she wished she had not: pages and documents upon the dozen of 'the plague doctor,' and his faulty cure.

Papa had always spoke about medicines and old practises he hoped his daughter would continue, but re-animating corpses and strange otherworldly serums? That was something no daughter should expect a Father to be involved in.

'Papa, can I go to school?' She remembered the look in his eyes. 'No, we must stay hidden. It is safe here.' Her chest heaving. 'Papa, if I am so special... why am I a secret?'

"Oh my god..." she cupped her mouth, willing herself to not vomit. Now she knew. Because... her Papa was a monster. She flicked through the book frantically, biting her lip hard and sweating. Falling on a page all about her Mother, looking so pretty and young. Shaking her head, reading reports on 'Agent Miria,' and her expeditions with the 'plague doctor.'

'Agent Miria has exceeded expectations, and the subject in question (049) reacts well to her presence.' Isabeau bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, shaking. "I bet he did... he... that fucking monster." But, that was her Papa.

There was a number in the back of the book, a work-phone line. Isabeau checked her mobile, seeing no signal and then looking outside to see this strange ceremony happening. With those drawings, and the phone call from her Mother- she had to hurry. There had to be signal back down the hill.

~~~~

"You look... perfect." 049 felt the breath leave his lungs as he watched Miria pat down the designed wedding dress. Her eyes wide and innocent as he hurried over, running his hands along her elbows before they took her own into his. "My heart," he breathed hard, "I am so... delirious with joy."

Miria seemed distant, looking away. "Miria, my love, what are you thinking about?" He cupped her chin, returning her gaze to his. She chose not to answer, and 049 was happily lost in her shaking orbs.

"I... will tell you what I am thinking about." She called weakly, stammering. "I... want to see the hills. You promised, right?" 049 chuckled, sliding his hand down her back and picking her up bridal style. "Of course. I keep my word. You shall have the world, now that the world may not have you."

Yes. Death would not take her, not now. Nor would age, or harm.

049 opened the front door, adjusting Miria in his arms. The second it opened, Miria recognised the scene from before. Decorated just as it were those years ago: candles lighting the walkway, the flowers decorating the trellis, the empty hills staring back as the only witness. She could feel 049's heart beating loudly through his ribs.

He stopped beneath the roses, smiling widely at her. "What... do I need to do now?" Miria asked, uncertain of this procedure. And all 049 could do was breathe heavily, a blush present on his face. "Florice?" "Oh!" He stammered. "I... apologise. I just remember doing this so many years back," he palmed her face gently, "and my love for you has not dwindled a single bit."

She snuggled into his hand a little, hearing his voice call out as he took her hand again. Having removed her rings earlier, he presented them again. “In nomine Patris," his gentle voice cooed. Miria felt her head swaying, heart beating violently. Was this dread?

“Et filii." She shut her eyes, suffering from mental anguish. Eyes darting around in the darkness of closed lids, remembering... his lips on hers, his hands tying her down, his tongue on her-

"Et Spiritus Sancti." Miria looked up, pausing on the bedroom window. Was that...?

She felt 049 tug at her arm roughly, overly-excited as he forced the ring on her finger. “Io te esposy, molher.” Her eyes kept glancing to the window, wondering. Should she ruin this hope? This chance at a better life, if she obeys, could be crushed.

"Florice... what happens now?" She asked once more. "Now... I must... send you to sleep." Her eyes widened. "Not to fear. Just a simple procedure, but you will feel no different- I assure you." She kept silent for a moment, looking away.

"Florice?" "Hmm?" There was a pause, before her eyes met his full of tears. "I am afraid..."

"Of course you are. Most patients are." "But..." she pouted, "am I just a patient to you?" He spluttered out a response. "Of course not! You mean everything to me!"

Her smile was radiant, despite the tears. "Then I will not ruin what we have... and I do not know how to say this; you really are dear to me, Florice." He blushed, patiently waiting for her to speak. "Take my hand... Florice.... please... stop pretending."

"Pretending?" He asked, cocking his head. "You... want to cure, I... you are excited to operate, right?" He seemed startled and shaken. "I will not ruin the companionship we have gained together... but... we should finally be lovers instead. You gave up so much for me."

049 could barely believe his ears, or his eyes. His bride blushing before himself. "Tu es trop charmante." She chuckled, tapping the edge of his nose with her index finger as he jumped a little from the action.  
"Tu as de beaux yeux tu sais." 049 remembered himself saying this to her the last time he had wed her. "I... said those words-" "Yes, on our wedding day."

"You... let me have my career. You helped me become a better me." 049 held her hands tight, feeding off of her every compliment. "My darling Florice," she palmed his face in return, watching his brows furrow as he exhaled out of his nose and shut his eyes; snuggling into her palm. "This serum... will it harm me?"

"Not at all," 049 let her go, reaching in his pockets to find the needle. "It will knock you out, but the ingredients are... a tad special." Miria seemed distracted, breathing hard. "It will make you strong, my wife. Until I have operated, you may still leave this word- yes. However, this will slow the aging process, and speed any recoveries you may have to handle in this lifetime."

"Then do it..." she looked away, exposing her neck for him. "B-But... not yet." "Oh?" He chuckled. "No... just... a few more moments."

A little perplexed, 049 returned to explaining his magnificent serum. "This vial will also act as your ring does. I can tell when you are hurting, and where you are. As with I, to you." Miria blinked a few times, "I can know where you are?" He nodded.

There was a noise behind 049, and he went to look; stopped by Miria pulling his hand to her neck. "The serum, I am ready- my love." Distracted by the lust in his wife's eyes, he focused on inserting the needle into his wife's neck. The serum just inserting into her neck, only a little, before 049 felt something strong wrapping around his neck and forcing him backwards.

His eyes cold, but wide and alarmed. Hundreds, if not thousands, of armoured men with the foundation mark on their bullet-proof vests. He struggled, unable to fight the restraint on his neck. Miria could only watch in shock, staring back at the men looking at her.

"Agent... Miria?" One man called, coming closer. Miria scooted backwards, red in the face and frightened. Until she heard a voice call from the crowd of men.

"Mom! Mommy!" It was Isabeau, being handled roughly by the guards. Miria transfixed on her daughter, breathing hard and hurrying to her. "Miria... Miria!" 049 called angrily, trying to reach for her, just missing her dress as she hurried by him without sparing him a single glance.

"Agent... Miria... please step back. This woman is his accomplice." Miria spoke in a hushed tone, eyes dull. "This is my daughter."

There was an audible whispering, and the men let Isabeau go. The young woman hurried to her Mother, keeping a small distance as they stared at one another. "Mother..." "Isabeau..."

Miria looked around tiredly, "did... you get these men to come here?" Isabeau nodded, stepping closer cautiously. "Mom... please... I have... so much to say to you."

"Mom... Mom?!" Miria collapsed to her knees, sobbing. "Mommy... please..." Miria felt arms wrap around her quickly, cuddling and nuzzling her warmly. "I am so sorry... Mommy please. Say something."

It took Miria a few moments to wet her lips to speak. "I... trusted you." Isabeau let her Mother go, sobbing louder and shutting her eyes at that harsh dead tone. "Your words mean nothing to me, Isabeau." "I am so sorry... Mommy... please... I need you!"

Isabeau trembled, feeling a cold palm on her cheek. Opening her eyes to see Miria smiling gently at her, a face full of tears. "Your words mean nothing, because your actions speak the truth... you saved me."

"Yeah... twenty years too late." Isabeau stuttered, crying harder. "I left you for ruin..." she sobbed to her Mother.

"No... you- we are here now." Isabeau let out a small broken gasp, seeing her Mother looking so strong. "I am bent... but not broken." Miria spared a glance at 049 listening with a glare. "I am sad, but not hopeless. I am hurt, but not giving up... just... help me get up, please."

Isabeau nodded frantically, helping Miria stand and hobble away. A guard nodded to the other, everyone ignoring 049's empty threats for Miria to return. She did not even look at him; she just listened to the sound of a dart hitting his neck, and his body falling limp. "Take him away, boys," the commander spoke, before turning his attention to Miria.

Miria felt the commander place his warm jacket over her, letting Isabeau walk her in the direction the unit was going. Isabeau turned to the small cottage, growling and screaming madly as she flipped her middle finger to the home.

"Mommy," Isabeau said slowly, "I love you... we are together now, okay?" Miria nodded slowly, smiling as Isabeau nuzzled her and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

~~~~

"How do you feel today, you two?" The voice called rom outside the window. Isabeau looked up from the paper she was drawing on, smiling to the researcher outside. "I am alright," she shrugged, "Mom?" Miria nodded silently, continuing to colour a leaf in from beneath the paper in front of herself.

Isabeau ignored her concerns. Miria usually spent her time toying this old hair pin, shyly talking nonsense about how she never got to use it, and how it represented freedom. Nobody really understood, but they let Miria keep it anyway, and Isabeau was just thankful her Mother was doing something other than admire it.

"You two do that all the time. Got a special theme, or...?" The researcher asked. "We..." Isabeau placed a hand on Miria's shoulder, smiling, "used to do this when I was little." The researcher smiled. "Good. It is nice to reminisce."

Miria still barely spoke, but thankfully Isabeau done that for her. Three months at the foundation, treated like humans but kept as subjects. The daughter of the plague doctor, and the wife of him too; two subjects of immediate interest, but no harm. The hurt had not left, but the promise of torture had.

049 was here, somewhere in this facility. But, Miria was busy thriving. "You can leave this place in a month's time," the researcher sipped his coffee casually mid-sentence, "you gonna flip the foundation off when you leave?" Isabeau laughed, "you bet I will."

"No..." Miria looked up suddenly. "We will." Miria put her middle finger up to nothing in particular. "Yes, go Mom!" Isabeau cheered, seeing her Mother smile brightly. Miria left the room to use the toilet, leaving Isabeau and the researcher alone.

"So... has... that creature... my Papa... requested to see us anymore?" The researcher paused for a moment. "Yes... everyday. He... claims that he will not stop until he has your Mother again. And, the serum he managed to inject into her neck does have... its effects." Isabeau looked away in shame. "phycological tests prove that whatever he injected into her only magnifies the trauma she feels in the need to be back beside him. But... with time and therapy, we are sure you and your Mother can live a happy life once more."

"I hope so..." Isabeau looked outside, wondering why her Mama was taking so long. Even if her life was now a deathless death, a waiting game for freedom, Isabeau had to protect her Mama no matter what. For, somewhere in these walls, a monster was waiting to capture her again. And, this time, his time starving and malnourished from his lovers love would prove catastrophic. 049 was blood-thirsty, enraged, offended- he needed Miria. And no matter how, he was sure he would get her again. Daughter against Father, there is no sweeter innocence then the victim stuck between. In this madness sewn into this family, only Miria can feel human.


	9. Eternal Bride

Forgiveness... there is always something so... right about it. Something so curious, so painful- denying yourself the privilege of pride, and letting the hatred go. January the 26th, year ____. Miria sat with a stern gaze on the table in front of herself, only broken when a guard politely caught her attention by clearing his throat.

"Miria..." she looked tiredly up at him staring at her reflection in his visor. "Yes?" "Are you... ready to go?" Miria paused in thought for a second. "Ready as I will ever be."

She stood, clutching herself a little too tight. Forgiveness... there is always something so... wrong... about it. Pretending you are not hurt, for the greater good. Pretending to be alright, so that others will be 'alright.' Pretending to be brave, when really you just want somoene to come and rescue you. 

The concept kept swirling in her mind, unable to rest. Nose crinkling and eyes widening as she and the guard ventured into the darker halls of the foundation. A cold wind rushing over her body, making her shudder in this notion that brought conflicting images to mind.

Her lips parted, arms restrained above her. The feeling of her limbs being torn and pulled out of place as she desperately tries to tug her restraints, only succeeding in pulling all the muscles in her upper body. The feeling of unfeeling hands rubbing her backside, admiring every shape and pattern in her skin. Her fingers currently shaking and trembling a little as she remembered. Remembered the sight of 049 and his army of undead ghouls pushing on the glass, a memory she had since forgotten. That door... if only she had locked the other door to her room, she could have boarded the helicopter. And now, she was on her way to visit the infamous plague doctor.

Once a subject, once a fascination, now... a demon. Something so rotten about him. Claiming to be a saint, to be the saviour of the world, only to ravish and dedicate his heroic life to... destroying Miria's. 

They reached the elevator, and Miria began scratching her arms furiously. The reflection of herself in the elevator door as it shut- disgusting. She left 049. She hurt her daughter. She forgot to shut that door. She failed her parents. She chose this life...

The doors opened, and Isabeau stood there expectantly. Her eyes full of concern as she looked at her Mother. "Mama, Mama, its me." Isabeau quickly clung to her Mother, brushing her tiny hand up and down her arm.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Isabeau leant in closer. "We don't have to do this..."

"No..." Miria silenced her. "Florice... your... Father... has asked to see us." "Mother?! He is not my Father. That fucking thing in there is not my Dad. He is a rapist." Her voice was so full of venom, chest heaving as she raged. "I know..." Miria calmed, "but... what happens if we do not? The foundation just... get rid of us?" Isabeau shook her head. "Yes, they do! We have two literal days until you and I get to leave and live in a new home, away from this place. Why, oh why, are you complying to this fucking shit?!" Miria winced beneath her voice, making Isabeau rub the back of her neck.

"Look... I'm sorry Mama... I just...you cannot keep following their orders, his orders... please... I need my Mom." 

Miria shuddered, looking at her feet. This ache in her neck, where he... 049... had injected some concoction inside of her.

'Makes himself irresistible to you,' said the scientists. 'We think it has some kind of... tracking stuff... in it... same stuff we found in another SCP's cell. This liquid that connects to the original host... in this case, 049. A way of controlling someone, or something.' Miria tried to deny the chance that her curiosity to see 049 was the drug he had given her, but... even so, part of her wanted to see him.

Forgiveness was one thing. But, how could she ever overcome him... ever hope to live normally, if she just runs? 

Hand in hand, Isabeau made sure to grab her Mother tight as the two females walked along a pack of hardened soldiers in silence. Slowly turning a corner in the darkness, to see the window. The chamber where 049 was kept. Now, and SCP- once a husband, once a Father.

The two females stood before the window, both in equal silence as they stared back at the plague doctor inside. The reality hitting home for Isabeau, who turned and vomited instantly. This man, this thing, was her Father.

049 had been set by the window, feet chained to the floor, arms tied in front of himself politely with cuffs. His eyes were glowering, set instantly on Miria who stared back sheepishly. At first, nobody knew what to say... until a scientist spoke out. 

"Ahem, 049... we have complied to your wish to see your... family... you have five minutes, beginning now." He set off a timer, which 049 studied with distaste before fixating on his wife again. 

"Miria..." her breath got caught in her throat. "How long has it been since I have seen you?" She could not speak. "Perhaps... seven, no, eight, months?" Miria could feel her heart stammering. Isabeau rose, glaring at her Father, but even she felt the cold stab of fear injecting itself inside of her. 

"Ah, my beautiful little girl. My, how your Papa has missed you." "Do not... speak to me... you foul fucking monster." Isabeau spat, glaring as harshly as possible. "I see..." 049 said coldly, turning from his daughter as if she mattered none.

"My wife... look at me, will you not?" Miria was frozen, staring at her feet. "We have but a few moments left, please... let me see those eyes." One researcher was evidently creeped out by 049, standing up: "enough 049, leave her be."

"I WILL NOT LEAVE HER BE."

Everyone in the room gasped, stepping back at 049's sudden rage and rattling chains. They watched him calm, panting still. "I will escape. And, you can be sure I shall extract much deserve vengeance upon those who have separated me from my family. From my wife." He paused. "My wife, who even now, refuses to look at me." 049's voice kept getting harsher. "My wife whom once lay upon these very walls, eloping with me in secret, harbouring my affection- only now, to act aloof, cold, and spite me with silence!" 

"I... I did not mean to..." Miria did not mean to have sex with him initially; she felt pressured, but how to say so without sounding fake... that was the question. 

"My wife... I love you... does this mean nothing?" Miria refused to look, hyperventilating now as memories of the torture spun in her mind again. Those chained criminal hands over her body, this man- forcing her upon his body... forcing her to gaze at her reflection, for fun. A single tear left her eye, and Isabeau had seen enough.

"No, it does mean fucking nothing. You, are not my Dad. You are not my Mother's husband." He chuckled, "on the contrary, yes I am... I was the one to help birth you. Just me, you and your Mother. We needed none else. I was the first to hold you." He leaned closer. "I brought you into this world, darling." 

Isabeau felt sick again, but smashed her fist on the glass anyway. "You sick fucker! You will NEVER get your grubby hands back on my Mama again, you hear?!" Isabeau was dragged back a few feet by a guard, but still kept glaring and trying to smash herself against the glass in anger. "I gave up everything for you! Because you could only torture my Mama, you could never love her! I won't allow it!" 049 urged his neck forth, glaring. "I shall and I will." He gazed at Miria, staring. "Miria... please... come to me... I am restrained, see? Just.... let me feel you once."

"Can I go?" Miria stuttered, looking at the closest guard. "Sure. Okay, Alpha to squard; assisting Miss Miria back upstairs." 049 began thrashing. "No... Miria.... what- where are you- I demand you come back here!" Miria shook violently, longing to get away quickly. "She is not yours," Isabeau spat, "you do not demand my Mama!"

"She is MY eternal bride! You hear? Mine!" 

Miria shuddered as she was brought back to her room, Isabeau panting at her side as the two separated for the night. Their rooms next to each other, private of course. "I love you, my little girl..." Miria sobbed loudly, clutching onto Isabeau tight who rested her chin on the top of her shorter Mother's head. "I love you too... and... I won't let anything harm you... I promise."

The two parted, and Miria got into bed. The warm duvet quickly sending her into dreamland. 

Red lights danced along her vision, and Miria stirred. Looking up, it took a few moments to realise that the breach light was what had woken her- before she heard the loud sirens begin to blare. 

There was a pounding at her door, and Miria instantly froze. "MOM! MOM OPEN THE DOOR!" 

Miria sprung to action, opening the door. Both females only in their white shirt and shorts, provided by the foundation. Isabeau dragged her Mother outside, checking her for injuries before taking her hand and running down the hall. "Where... what?" Miria stuttered. "A breach.. I don't... I don't fucking know where to go!"

Isabeau knew 049 would come. She knew he might kill her. She knew what would happen to her Mother, and she knew Miria was in no state to lead them to safety. Her hair in a long plait behind herself, feet cold and bare along the floor, Isabeau puffed and panted as she blinked to stabilize her vision; running down the hall.

So many screams of terror made her heart pound. This masculine voice robotic as it reigned over the facility, announcing the loose scps. One being 049.

Miria looked behind herself, watching the cameras move along, following her and Isabeau. Her memory as a researcher coming back; a deafening ringing in her ears as she let her head tip back and eyes shut whilst running. This trauma leaking out of her, replaced by suppressed memoirs of a former self. This true self; the researcher that 049 had trained out of her.

Miria watched in slow motion almost as Isabeau looked over her shoulder, screaming obviously- but the sound of screaming, the pounding, the doors slamming all around- it all melted into one in Miria's audio. The sound of their feet pounding being one of the loudest things as Miria looked over her own shoulder to see the body of a guard crumble to the floor, her husband behind them both... just staring.

Isabeau shook her Mother's hand, continuing to run along in terror. Clearly out of breath, with 049 gone from sight, Isabeau screeched to a halt and offered her Mother a kind look. Her hands taking both of Miria's. "Mama...." she trembled, smiling brightly. "Mom..." she let a tear fall down her face as her hand outstretched, placing some of Miria's loose hair behind her ear. "My Mom..." Isabeau crouched a little, placing Miria's hands against her forehead, crying. "Je t'aime, maman..."

Isabeau speaking French was such a odd thing; she refused to do so in all cases, due to her disgust for her Father. So, it was now that Miria realised her brave and triumphant little girl was truly afraid. With a look of horror, Isabeau produced a key card and shoved Miria into a room behind herself. A look of regret, or sadness, of horror, of... love, on her face as Isabeau forced the door to shut.

Spinning round, Isabeau pressed herself against the door and refused to sink into herself as the looming dark figure of 049 practically shrouded her in shadows. Both staring intently at one another. "My daughter... where is the key-card?" Isabeau refused to speak, staring intently back at him. "I see..."

049 knew she was not going to comply. He looked behind himself at the approaching SCP's. The sinister laughter of 106, eagerly waiting for 049 to move so he could snatch up his daughter. 173 hovering somewhere closeby- one look at Isabeau and he would follow relentlessly. The possessive mask whom had recently gotten a host, just wandering the facility in hope of finding someone as gullible as Isabeau.

"My daughter... you know you have no chance to survive this place. Come with me... I shall protect you from harm." 049 extended his cloak, as if asking her to crawl into his arms and hide in his robes. Isabeau remembered doing so as a child, but burrowed the sorrow inside of herself and stared with a fiery gaze at him. "I cannot do that... you would only keep me chained up inside that home too. I cannot let you have my Mother."

"I would protect you. You will live a good life within our home." He was basically admitting he would do as Isabeau expected. "Mom and I wish to be free... please... Father... let us go. Let her go." Isabeau swallowed the hurt, rushing him for a hug.

It took about 5 seconds for 049 to hesitantly return the hug, hearing his child sobbing against his chest. "Please Father..."

But then he heard the sweet melody of his wife sobbing within the room behind his child. "Isabeau?" Miria called out, curious and afraid. 049 could hear the cretins of this foundation drawing nearer, and knew any of them could kill his beloved at any moment. "Miria, come out... I shall take us all to safety. That is my promise to you."

"Please..." Miria begged inside, clearly crying. 

"WE ARE DETONATING THE ALPHA WARHEADS IN PRECISELY TWENTY MINUTES." The speaker rang out. 049 was losing patience, gripping his fists tightly.

"Come. Out. Now."

"I... c-cant... please...."

"Leave us-" Isabeau went to speak, thrown so harshly to the side by the man she called Father. Her vision turning fuzzy, her limbs numb. She was conscious, but unable to move or think. She could hear her Father pounding on the door.

Miria could only hear the pounding, her own unheard pleas and this deafening ringing in her ears. She curled into a ball, screaming at the top of her lungs for him to stop. Unsure what to do; conflicted between fighting back, as she failed to do so many times, and submitting. She cried out her child's name, hearing nothing in return, and then whimpering as the door swung open; dust and bright light engulfing her.

Falling feint, Miria felt herself being lifted against her husbands chest. A needle in his hand that entered her neck; her eyes rolling to the back of her head, and a futile gasp leaving her lips before his robes concealed her entirely. Carried from that room, she could hear the guards actively dragging Isabeau to safety. She could hear 049 telling her they were going to a place where none shall find them, this time for sure. Telling her it will be too late, that he will administer his sickening concoction the second they both reach freedom. And, all she could do, was let it happen... finally giving in for real this time.

No more fighting. She had done her piece. She had raised a daughter, shown the world the truth. Even if she were never found, the foundation would know. Her child would know that she was loved. Time would have no meaning anymore; night and day becoming one as her whole life and body became a possession of her husbands. Because, forgiveness is a thing so wrong and so right. And she forgave 049, just as she had forgiven herself for not shutting that door, for not nurturing her child, for not escaping beforehand. 

Till death do them part, she was to forever be his Eternal Bride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je t'aime, maman- I love you Mama


End file.
